Detention Please
by Stars and Stripes
Summary: 500-Word one-shots of practical jokes and hilarious stunts from your favorite twins.
1. Chapter 1

"This is an outrage!" George shouted dramatically, slamming his fists on the Gryffindor dining table sending the enormous pile of yams scattering across the glossy wood. "I am absolutely astounded that they would put this rubbish in front of me!"

"An outrage, indeed," agreed Fred. "And to think, those silly house elves call us their friends!" Hermione, who was sitting not too far away, shot him an icy look.

George nodded, pushing his plate away from him roughly. "Fred, I'm afraid this matter has gone too long without any attention. Hadn't we taught them anything?" he wondered aloud, shaking his head in disapproval. Their mock frustration was beginning to make heads turn.

"I believe it's time we've done something about this. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning maliciously.

His twin smiled back, and said, "That depends. Are you thinking about my devilish good looks?"

"Close."

"Grab your bag, Freddie," he said, winking. "I think that'll be all for lunch today. Suddenly, I've lost my appetite."

"What a coincidence." The two marched out of the Great Hall, earning some curious glances and arousing some hushed whispers amongst the dining students.

Fred and George tiptoed down to the familiar portrait of the colorful bowl of fruit, careful not to draw any more attention. As George kept watch, Fred deftly tickled the green pear and turned the doorknob it magically transformed into. He slipped inside, waving his brother to follow silently.

Once safely inside, the twins turned around and faced the busy elves. Fred crossed his arms; George placed his hands on his hips and cleared his throat. Almost at once, the house elves froze and snapped their heads in their direction.

"We'll make short work of this, won't we George?" Fred said, staring at the knobby little creatures around them, struggling to keep himself from smiling.

"Yes, Fred. We want to know where you keep the sweet potatoes," George demanded, using the most vicious tone he could muster.

Apart from one who cried, "Why should we tell you?" each terrified elf pointed simultaneously toward a closet door labeled "Vegetables".

"Thank you. Carry on," Fred ordered, and they all scurried back to work, immediately.

Inside the closet were piles and piles of crates labeled differently according to the vegetable they held. Thankfully, the yam collection was laid out nicely in front of them, most likely because they had been so recently used.

They glanced at each other, matching grins spreading across their faces, and George said, "Ready, Fred?"

"Ready, George!"

And, with the waves of their wands, one by one, the yams hopped out of the crates and sprouted ugly, green, frog-like legs. Then, they began waddling in single file out of the closet, into the kitchen, through the portrait hole, into the Entrance Hall and out through the front doors.

Fred and George ran out of the closet when they heard the house elves shrieking in surprise. They tried to stop the parade, but the slippery yams slid easily out of their palms and resumed their place in line. The boys roared in delight.

Students and teachers alike began screaming and yelping. Chaos, exactly what the twins thrived on. Quickly, they trailed the potato rally into the Entrance Hall and began swinging their arms in a way that suggested they were conducting an orchestra.

Professor Flitwick came shuffling out of the Great Hall, pushing his way through the gathering students, yelling the whole way. "Oh, Merlin! I'll bet it's the Weasleys again! Oh, how did I know!" He threw his hands up in anger, and his face grew red. "What have you done?"

"We've done everyone a favor!" they yelled together over the growing noise, smirking.

"Deten – "

"We know, we know. Detention," the boys said, rolling their eyes in unison.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ginny, we won't allow it," Fred said, folding his arms and closing his eyes.

"There is no way our baby sister is going on a date," George continued. "Especially with someone older." He raised his eyebrows.

"Who and when I date is none of your business!" Ginny yelled, her face growing red with rage. "Just leave me alone! I can take care of myself."

"You mean, 'Dean can take care of you'," Fred corrected, smirking.

Ginny's face was like a tomato now. "Shut it!" she ordered angrily.

"We could, of course, tell mum, couldn't we, Fred?" George said, examining his cuticles calmly.

"I suppose, if it came to that, we could," Fred sighed, placing his index finger to his chin.

"Don't even think about it," Ginny warned, balling her dainty hands into menacing fists.

The twins exchanged an excited glance at her apparent opposition to this suggestion. "No promises," they chorused together in a sing-song voice. Ginny watched them exit the common room with her mouth hanging slightly open and her entire body shaking with fury.

"Dean and I are going to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow together and there's nothing either of you can do about it!" she called after them, making other Gryffindor's snap their heads up. She looked around, suddenly embarrassed when neither boy fought her ultimatum. She smiled weakly, then exited through the portrait hole to avoid everyone's curious gaze.

George plopped down on his four poster bed, and opened one of his many Quidditch magazines. "Well, Freddie, looks like there's nothing we can do," he said, sighing in mock defeat.

"Nope, nothing we can do," Fred said in a mirroring tone. "Unless, of course, you wanted to try out that knew charm you discovered…" Fred trailed off, leaning back on his pillow.

George's eyes appeared over the top of his magazine, and said thoughtfully, "Hmm, I was hoping you would say that. I have been meaning to put it to use but never found the proper occasion…" He grinned, then resumed his reading.

"Tonight, then?" Fred asked, already knowing the answer.

"Midnight, I'd say."

"Midnight, it is."

It was lucky Dean Thomas snored so loudly, for the creaking floorboards might have otherwise woke him up as Fred and George crept up on him. George pressed his index finger to his lips and Fred nodded, suppressing the laughter that threatened to give them away.

Fred threw the curtains to his bed open and drew his wand from his trousers silently. "Ready?" he mouthed.

"Ready!" George whispered.

George quickly twirled his wand and uttered a short incantation that immediately had an effect. Fred watched as George began to shave Dean's hair away in the form of a heart. Fred almost exploded in a fit of giggles. But, George wasn't done. He steadily wrote Ginny's name inside the heart, then finished it off with an arrow poking out of both ends. When he was through, he blew on the end of his wand, just as a cowboy would to his smoking gun.

"Excellent work, Georgie," Fred whispered, smiling. George grinned back, proudly, holstering his wand with a flourishing twirl.

Poor Dean entered the Great Hall the following morning, and was greeted with laughter and harmonized "ooh la las". He hadn't known what was so funny until Seamus handed him a pair of mirrors to inspect the damage. He gasped, and ran from the dining hall, covering his shaved head with his hand.

Naturally, he canceled his date with Ginny out of pure embarrassment and took to wearing a hat for at least a fortnight.

"Mission complete," the twins said together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Oops, this one's a little long... Well, please read and review, anyway!**

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><p>"Alright, say it," George said, grinning.<p>

"Say what?" Fred asked, mildly confused.

"Say, 'You're a genius, George'!"

"And, why would I do that?" Fred inquired, his curiosity suddenly piqued.

"Because," George began, sitting down next to him at their usual table in Snape's Potions class. "I just thought of the perfect Halloween prank. I can't believe I almost forgot Halloween was tomorrow! Oh, you're going to love it."

Fred grinned. "I'm listening."

"Well, we're going to need to get to Hagrid's pumpkin patch tonight so that – "

"Ahem," interrupted a deep, nasally voice. "Class is in session." Professor Snape glared ferociously at the twins as they reluctantly faced the front of the class and left their conversation unfinished.

George opened his notebook and scribbled on the top corner of the paper: "Meet me outside the Entrance Hall right after class. Bring your blue bag."

After an hour of enduring Snape's droning insults and snide comments, the redheads made their way through the grounds as the sun set behind the castle. Hagrid's hut was not empty, and by the whistling sound that was coming from his open window, they assumed he had just made a pot of tea. It was just as well, though; for the Weasley twins, it wasn't fun to do something against the rules unless there was a chance of getting caught.

"Look! Over there!" Fred said in a hushed voice, pointing to the hundreds of pumpkins, ripe and already harvested. Perfect. "Stay low, though. His window's open."

"Did you bring the bag?" George asked, holding out his hand to take it.

"Of course, I brought the bag," Fred replied, handing it to him.

"You know, sometimes Hermione gets on my nerves, but she comes in handy once in awhile. Where would we be without the Undetectable Extension Charm?" George grinned.

Somehow, they managed to squeeze 18 pumpkins into Fred's small blue bag just as Hagrid opened his back door to let Fang out. They ducked immediately, and Fred mouthed, "Go!"

They took off at a run toward the castle, and made it to the steps before Hagrid even had time to notice anything out of the ordinary. The boys cruised in the front doors, just as Professor McGonagall walked by. When she saw them feigning innocence, she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Good evening, Professor!" Fred yelled enthusiastically.

"Great to see you, ma'am," George added.

"Weasley, you know I hate it when you call me m – "

"Please, call me George." He smiled. Her mouth tightened.

"I'm not going to ask what you two are up to, because frankly, I don't want to know, but I will say this: three more minutes and I can give you detention for being up after hours. Bed, now," she ordered.

The twins smiled and saluted her, puffing out their chests. "Aye, aye!" they said together.

They marched after her, up the stairs and through the portrait hole. "Goodnight, Professor!" Fred and George said, perhaps with too much excitement. She did her best to ignore them.

The Halloween feast arrived, and the twins entered the Great Hall with a strong air of confidence about them. The pumpkins were properly planted and everything was in order. The two dropped down on the bench next to Harry and Ron.

"Get ready, boys," Fred said.

"Get ready for what?" Ron asked stupidly.

George glanced around the hall. Almost every student had gathered and the teachers were all sitting at the head table. He exchanged a look with his twin and then they nodded in unison. "For this."

George pulled out his wand and swung it lightly through the air. Every single jack-o-lantern that was floating above their heads rearranged quickly and they all turned 180 degrees. The pumpkins lined up and separated into four groups. Where there should have been a face on each pumpkin, there instead was a letter carved into the soft orange exterior. If you read it across it said: "TGNLO USRD EPEAS NATL".

"Oops," George said, "Let's try again." He flicked his wand again and the letters rearranged once more to read: "SNAPE EATS TROLL DUNG".

"Ah, there we go," Fred said, smiling triumphantly. The entire Gryffindor table erupted with laughter, causing the other tables to look up as well. They joined in on the mirth, with the exception of a few Slytherins. Snape scowled dangerously at the joyous twins, who couldn't be put down in a time like this. Even Dumbledore couldn't suppress a smile at this point. "Oh, and I almost forgot: you are definitely a genius, Georgie."

"Thank you, Fred," George said. "I do have to say, this certainly beats the time we tried to lock the ghosts in the dungeons our first year on Halloween."

"Yeah, we didn't really think that one out, did we?"


	4. Chapter 4

**As an author, I've been a little discouraged by the lack of reviews/feedback for this story, so it might be awhile before I update. But, for now, here's Chapter 4. Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"George, guess what I just heard!" Fred called as he came down the dormitory steps into the common room.<p>

"What's that, Freddie?"

"Hagrid's bringing in garden gnomes for Care of Magical Creatures class today!" Fred told him, his voice oozing with excitement.

"No way! How many?" George asked eagerly.

"I think eight or nine, maybe a few more."

"Well, are you going to tell me what you have in mind? Or, have you just suddenly discovered your hidden love for the ugly things?" George asked.

Fred glanced around the common room, noticing that other Gryffindors were subtly trying to eavesdrop. Fred motioned for George to lean closer and he whispered something in his ear. As his twin spoke, George's face lit up instantly.

"Brilliant, Freddie. Absolutely brilliant," he chided, rubbing his hands together. "Shall we go then?"

"After you," Fred said, gesturing to the portrait hole.

Hagrid's hut had a makeshift paddock laid out in the back, bordering the Forbidden Forest. Inside, just like Fred had said, were nine, short and disgusting garden gnomes that ran around in circles, bumping into each other as they went.

"I think four should do the trick," Fred mentioned as he hopped over the low, magical fence. "Coming, Georgie?"

George climbed in after him, grinning. "You grab two and I'll grab two," he ordered, pointing to a few of the smaller ones.

"Right." Fred snatched one by the ankle that was running by his feet and let him dangle upside down. The gnome went still, almost like it was in a trance, and Fred took out his wand. After he had poked it with it several times in the stomach, the gnome finally adorned a large purple "1" seemingly painted on its torso. Fred smiled.

"Ouch!" The gnome George was after had bitten his fingers but he was able to grab it anyway. He made his creature a red number "2".

"You okay, there, Georgie?" Fred laughed.

"Shut up, Fred," he said.

Fred caught another ugly gnome, but instead of making it number "3" he put a blue number "4" on its chest. George, once he had captured his second, made his a white number "5".

"Ready?"

"Let's go," Fred answered, grinning.

Both boys had a gnome hanging from each hand as they entered through the front doors. Thankfully, no one was downstairs for breakfast yet, not even the professors, but the twins guessed that Filch was probably lurking around somewhere.

"I'll let this one go here, then another in the Great Hall," Fred said in a low whisper. "You take yours down the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor and the Charms corridor. If they're spaced out, it'll be harder for Filch to catch them." George nodded and they split up.

Fred sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast as the rest of the students began pouring in. He peaked sideways at the Ravenclaw table where the number "2" was hiding underneath. He smirked.

"Hiya, Fred!" he heard Ron call as he joined him at the table, Harry and Hermione close by his side. "Where's George?"

"Bathroom," he lied indifferently. He reached for a few pieces of toast that appeared before him when a girl shrieked. Fred flipped his head around to see Cho Chang on her feet and her hand covering her mouth.

"Where did that come from?" she cried, pointing at the gnome that was nipping at people's ankles.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables roared with laughter as the stupid animal began running between students' legs and making people trip as the moved around the room. "Did you do this, Fred?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly shaking.

"Proudly." He grinned widely, and Harry and Ron sniggered.

George finally joined them and said, "Filch found number '5' already, and I think he's on '4's trail right now. You should have seen him though! He's been screaming up and down the corridors after them." He chuckled heartily. "Has he found either of yours?"

"Nope," Fred replied, happily.

"Wait a minute," Hermione interrupted. "How many did you set loose?"

"Four," they said together.

She thought for a moment, and then said, "And, you have a '4' and '5'? Do you have a '1' and '2' then?"

"Yup," they said, waiting for her to get it. She shook her head when she did and looked back at her copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

Ron's brow furrowed. He hadn't gotten it yet. "Why would you skip '3'?"

"Because, Ron," Fred explained, "It's no longer fun when Filch stops looking for them, so if he thinks there is a '3' then he'll never stop looking."

"This keeps him alert," Fred added.

"There are never enough lerts around here."


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I lied... Here's chapter 5! Hope you like it, and by the way, suggestions for future chapters are always welcome. (:**

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><p>Fred and George strode calmly down the corridor toward Professor Umbridge's office for detention with their hands shoved in their pockets. They whistled the same tune as Lee Jordan trotted alongside them.<p>

"So, just release it in ten minutes?" Lee asked for the thousandth time.

"Yes, Lee," Fred said, breaking off his melody and rolling his eyes.

"And, we're counting on you to not screw it up this time," George added.

"Oh, please. I won't screw it up," Lee stated as confidently as he could, though it sounded as though he didn't even really believe it.

The twins exchanged a glance then said, "Bye, Lee!" as they reached her office.

"Bye!" he called after them.

"He better get this right," Fred murmured quietly to George.

Just then, Umbridge opened her door to allow them entrance, greeting them with her wide, ugly smile. Neither twin returned the gesture. Instead, they scooted past her and plopped down onto the two chairs in front of her desk.

"So, what'll it be today?" George inquired, twirling one of the quills from her desk in his hands.

"More lines?" Fred guessed, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his cut-up right hand. The boys scowled in unison at her, but her smile never faltered.

"In fact, that's exactly what you are going to be doing," she giggled, placing herself in her normal seat. "If you will, take two new sheets of parchment as I retrieve the quills. Please." She added the nicety as an afterthought.

"Anything for you, Professor," Fred said in an acidic tone.

She glared at him, her eyes full of hatred, but her grin grew wider. "Thank you, dear."

And, as if on cue, there was a series of loud bangs from the other side of the door, followed by some scattered screaming. Umbridge sat bolt upright, listening intently to the commotion. She seemed to be torn between letting whoever it was out there suffer, or putting an end to it to save her reputation. After a few seconds, she decided her reputation was slightly more important, and she darted from the office, leaving the twins alone.

"Well, he pulled through this time," Fred said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Thankfully, but that was our last Decoy Detonator," George said sadly.

"Oh, we'll put in a new order tonight. Come on, we have to work quickly. She'll probably be back before you know it."

George nodded and pulled out his wand with the same swiping motion that Fred did. "Ready?" George chortled.

"Ready!" Fred answered, laughing, too.

They waved their wands simultaneously, pointing them at her kitty-plate infested walls. At once, her annoying, meowing kittens were quieted as if someone had pressed the mute bottom on a remote. The Weasley twins chuckled. The waved them again, and the cats could once again make sound, but the noise that passed their lips was entirely different. This time, each cat spoke in perfect English with Cornelius Fudge's irritating voice. They spoke one at a time, uttering phrases like "Dolores, how dare you abuse to power of the ministry to hurt students!" and "If you do something like that again, I'll sack you for sure!" or "That cardigan is absolutely repulsing; take it off at once!"

The boys doubled over with laughter, unable to control themselves. But, their happiness was cut short as they heard high-heeled footsteps coming toward them. Quickly, they resumed their seats.

" – never seen children with such horrific attitudes – " they heard her yelling. Softly, Filch was trying to calm her down. She burst through the door, and her eyes landed on the Weasley twins. "You two! You must have had something to do with this! Another two detentions, and that's final! Filch, leave, now!" she barked, angrily.

Her hair was frazzled and it took her an entire minute and a half to compose her expression. When she did, the room went silent. Then, a fat, orange cat bellowed, "You stupid, old woman! How dare you torture those children!" in Fudge's voice.

Umbridge jumped up in surprise and searched frantically around the room for the source of the sound. She looked in the fire first, but his head wasn't there. "Cornelius? Cornelius, is that you?"  
>"If you do something like that again, I'll sack you for sure!" screamed another kitten.<p>

It took everything they could not to laugh. "Cornelius, no! I'm sorry!"

"Stupid woman!" yelled another.

Her head spun around like an owl's trying to keep track of them all. "I – I – "

"Professor, are you alright?" Fred asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile.

"You! Get out of my office, both of you! Quickly!" Her expression was of pure terror.

They left gladly, laughing all the way up the corridor. Lee ran into them, and he looked slightly crestfallen. "What's wrong?" George asked, patting him on the back. "You did really excellent back there!"

"I've landed detention tomorrow with that awful gargoyle." He frowned.

"You can join us!" Fred said, happily.

The next afternoon, they entered her office for detention again and to their excitement, the kittens were still bellowing in her ears. Her grin was flawed, and the bags under her eyes indicated that she had stayed up all night, most likely trying to silence the felines.

"Please, sit down," she said through gritted teeth. "I hope you brought your own quills today because mine have somehow broken since your last visit."

They silently cheered at her obvious lie, and whipped out their quills. Umbridge's uneasy face and their healing hands made the detention almost worthwhile.

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><p><strong>Reviews are nice (:<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviews are nice!**

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><p>"Doesn't he normally creep around here?" George asked, looking up and down the deserted hallway.<p>

"Yeah, thought so," Fred said, peering around as well.

"Well, where is he?" George asked with slight irritation, though Fred knew it wasn't with him.

"Dunno," he grunted.

They waited in silence, and just as they were about to turn to go, Peeves appeared through the floor, cackling as he came. He hadn't seen the twins, and he was singing something that he had most likely made up himself.

"Ickle widdle firsties, your defenses are the worsties!" he yelled at the floor, laughing. No doubt he had just sabotaged a group of innocent first year students in the corridor below.

"Hey, Peeves!" Peeves spun around, facing the wrong direction.

"Oi! Over here!"

"Weasels, weasels, weasels!" he shrieked in delight.

"Peeves, listen up!" George yelled, trying to compensate for the noise the poltergeist was making. Peeves flipped upside down and hung in the air, laughing louder still.

"'Listen up, listen up'! Sorry, boys, that's not my tea of cup!" Peeves sang, sticking his tongue out.

"Peeves – " Fred called, warningly.

"Peeves, we have a job for you!" George shouted, speaking very quickly.

He stopped swooping around the room and turned to face them. "A job, you say? And, how will you repay?"

"We won't talk rewards until we know you'll do the job," Fred said, crossing his arms. George mimicked the movement.

Peeves looked from twin to twin, thinking. Then, after screwing up his ugly face, he said, "What is it you want? Is there someone you wish me to haunt?" His face lit up hopefully.

George shook his head, dampening Peeves' mood. "No, we want you to help us uncover what's under Quirrell's turban," he said sternly.

"I swore I heard a whisper come from it yesterday," Fred added. Peeves' eyebrows shot so far up his forehead, they threatened to disappear into his hair line.

"And, we need you to do it for us."

"Trouble, trouble, comes in double," he crooned, swaying back and forth a few feet above the ground. "What'll be my payment?" His eyes narrowed.

"We just put in a new shipment of dung-bombs. Would you care for a few of those?" Fred asked.

"Make it six, and I'll do your tricks," Peeves said, holding out his hand to be shaken.

"Good, it's a deal," George said, smiling.

"But, there's no way I'm shaking your hand," Fred said, looking at it scornfully. "We know your jokes." He frowned.

They had it all planned out. Professor Quirrell always came down the Charms corridor at the same time every afternoon, and they found it a good place to work. Fred and George lingered in the shadows, and Peeves loomed over the doorway of the abandoned classroom Quirrell now exited.

He took a sharp intake of breath and puffed up his cheeks, dramatizing the act of holding his breath for extra silence, then dove down. He bobbed mutely above the professor's head and found the end of the wrap that held the turban together. He grabbed it gently, so as not to startle Quirrell, and tugged it. Peeves pulled out a nail and pinned the end to a wall, letting the material unravel as he walked. Peeves followed behind him quietly, making faces the whole time.

Quirrell had walked so far that the fabric on his head had almost fallen off, and the Weasley twins waited anxiously. But, he must have felt a draft on his skull, because he had just put a hand to stop it from revealing anything moments before it did.

He turned around and shouted, "Peeves! P-P-Peeves! Get – get b-back here!" He chased after him angrily after he had released his turban from the wall.

The boys sighed, slightly annoyed. "So close," exhaled George. Fred nodded, sulking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so this chapter has two problems: First, it's close to a thousand words - I couldn't write everything I wanted to say in only 500 this time. And, second: it's somewhat confusing, so bear with me! I hope I didn't mix anything up!**

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><p>Hermione dozed heavily atop a pile of textbooks in the Gryffindor common room as Fred and George entered. Her curious, hour-glass necklace rested on her half-finished Arithmancy paper.<p>

"Tisk, tisk," George said, shaking his head at her.

"Working herself like a dog," Fred added solemnly.

"Hold on, what's that?" George said, pointing at her necklace.

Fred gasped in surprise. "Holy gargoyles! I know what that is!"

"Well, spit it out," George said eagerly. "What is it?"

"It's a time-turner! Dad told me about them one time. The ministry controls how many there are and who uses them." Fred informed him excitedly. "It lets you go back in time." His voice was a little dreamy.

George snapped his head back and forth between his twin and Hermione's necklace. Without much thought or reason he said, in a hushed voice, "Let's take it!"

"Have something in mind?" Fred asked.

"Perhaps." George raised his eyebrows, then he gently – very gently – slid the thin band over her head without managing to stir her. He let it sit, motionless, in his palm and held it up to Fred's face. "Oh, the possibilities." Fred nodded earnestly.

Then, Fred snapped his fingers, signally he had just gotten an idea. "Yes?" George asked.

"What do you say we freak Trelawney out a bit?"

"How do you mean?"

Fred smiled and looked down at his watch. "Come one, we're going to be late for Divination. I'll tell you on the way there."

They waited at the bottom of the ladder that led to Professor Trelawney's classroom, practically bubbling with excitement. "Freddie, I can't say it enough; you are brilliant."

Fred grinned, appreciatively. "It wasn't all my idea. You helped. Look! Here you come! Hey, Georgie!" Fred waved, though he wasn't waving at the boy that was standing right next to him. Instead, he was waving at a tall redhead walking down the hall toward them. As he approached, it was strangely apparent that it was George Weasley. Fred's stomach lurched uneasily. "This is so weird."

"I know! He looks nothing like me," George said, poking the future George's face.

The newcomer laughed and said, "You're right. I'm so much better looking than you."

The present George smiled and looked at his twin. "Definitely has my sense of humor, though."

"Well, come on," Fred said, beaming at the Georges in front of him. "The whole class is up there already. We can make our grand entrance."

They climbed the ladder, one by one, and emerged from the floor; first George, then Fred, then George again. The entire room gasped. There was a loud, curious murmur coming from the students, but Professor Trelawney hadn't looked up yet. The future George cleared his throat as they made their way to an empty table.

"Sorry we're late, Professor," the present George said apologetically.

"We ran into someone we knew, and got talking," Fred added. He gestured to the new George.

" – but, there are three of them!" someone behind them whispered loudly.

" – triplets?" someone else muttered.

Professor Trelawney slowly lifted herself from the large armchair by the fire place and turned to face the class. Her thick glasses magnified her still closed eyes as she began to speak. "That's quite alright, you two. I won't give you detention this time. Just please – " But, she cut her sentence short. Her eyes had opened and they rested on the Weasley's table. Her mouth popped open and she gazed at them in disbelief.

Quickly, she removed her glasses from her face and wiped them with her handkerchief. She moved closer to them then squinted intently when her enormous spectacles had resumed their normal position. The three grinned happily, trying not to laugh. "Yes, Professor?" future George said.

"I – but – you – three?" she stammered.

"Three?" Fred repeated. Trelawney looked as though she would faint. George giggled.

"You – there are three of you – supposed to be two – " her thick voice spluttered impatiently. "Will you please tell me what's going on?"

"Professor, nothing's going on," the second George said, pretending to be surprised by her question.

"You are twins – twins! – not triplets! What is going on?" she shrieked angrily.

"Professor Trelawney, we've always been triplets," Fred said, managing – somehow – to keep a straight face. "Do you need reminding of our names?"

Her head swiveled dangerously as she looked at each Weasley in turn. Then, she nodded in answer.

"I'm George," the real George said. "This is Fred." He spoke very slowly, as though he were speaking to a two-year-old. "And, that is Gred."

Professor Trelawney was shaking now. "No! No! There are only supposed to be two! Who are you?" She pointed her finger at Fred.

"Me?" Fred said. "George told you, Professor. I AM FRED." The class was beginning to laugh despite their curiosity and incredulity.

"Then, you!" She pointed at "Gred".

"Professor, are you alright?"

"Do you need us to alert Madam Pomfrey?"

"I'm going mad!" she yelled, to no one in particular. The boys chortled under their breath. "Do you see them? Do you see them, too?" She attacked one of the students at the next table over. The girl nodded fervently. "I'm going mad!"

For the duration of the class, Professor Trelawney sat in her armchair glancing at the three boys apprehensively. She was rocking back and forth in the fetal position, muttering comforting words to herself. The whole thing was quite comical.

After class had ended, the boys returned to the common room to find Hermione still passed out over her homework, snoring noisily. "Alright, George," Gred said. "You have to get going." He raised his eyebrows, smiling at him.

"Right." George pulled out the Time-Turner, hung it around his neck and turned it once. "Bye! See you later, then!"

Then, he vanished before them, leaving Fred and Gred – well, George – standing there by themselves, laughing hysterically.

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><p><strong>If anyone out there is wondering why the twins were able to deal with seeing themselves, I've come up with two reasons. One, because they knew it was coming and had planned the entire thing. And, two, because they are already insane in their own way. (: Hope that helps!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Here ya go. Reviews please (:**

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><p>"Okay," said Fred, looking down at a clipboard. "So, the Puking Pastilles are a 100% success." He checked it off the list ceremoniously.<p>

"And, the Canary Creams work tremendously," George added, full of excitement.

"The Fever Fudge only has a slight side effect of an annoying rash that spreads…well, everywhere." Fred tapped his quill on the clipboard, thinking.

"We'll fix that later." George waved his comment aside with his hand. "But, what's really been out of control is the Pygmy Puff population. They're breeding far too quickly."

Fred frowned. "You're right. And, they've been rather uncomfortable under our beds for far too long. I only meant for there to have been one litter all year, and there have already been seven!"

"I know," George said, rubbing his chin. "And, the Silencing Charms are starting to wear off. It's only a matter of time before everyone in Gryffindor Tower finds out about them. Hermione'll have our heads if she knows."

"Well, we're already stowing a third of them under Lee's bed." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the four-poster behind him. "And, not to mention the others. There are just too many."

"Hmm, you know we haven't bothered Ickle Ronniekins in a while…" George trailed off while retrieving a crate full of the little pink creatures from under his bed. "Do you think we should try and persuade him to help us?"

The boys thought for a moment, then shook their heads simultaneously. "Nah, he's a Prefect. He'll be a good boy and tell Hermione on us." Fred made a disgusted face.

"You're right. We'll just have to keep it our little secret then," George said shrugging.

Fred checked to see if the coast was clear on the staircase as George levitated the heavy crate into the Fifth Year's dormitory. Ron's bed was easy to pick out for it had a maroon jumper adorned with a large 'R' hung over the side. The twins laughed silently then slipped the crate full of pink Pygmy Puffs under his bed. One simple Silencing Charm was enough to quiet the lot and they tiptoed out of the room without another look back.

Later that evening, Fred and George had retired themselves to their beds, completely disregarding any homework they had been assigned when a girlish scream came from somewhere below. The Weasley twins exchanged a glance and raised their eyebrows. Just as they had been expecting, heavy footfalls could be heard stomping up the steps toward their door.

A rather angry Ron stormed over the threshold. "What are these?" he yelled, holding two baby Pygmy Puffs. "WHAT ARE THESE?"

Fred frowned. "George, did you forget the Disillusionment Charm?"

"Excuse me, but you forgot, too. This isn't my fault," George said defiantly.

"No, you – " Fred started, but Ron cut him off.

"Can you two stop bickering and tell me why I found a crate of these things under my bed?" Ron's temper was rising and his face was steadily turning a deeper shade of red.

"Don't you give us that tone, Ronald," George said with the best impression of their mother he could manage.

"Why did you put these under my bed?" he shrieked, shaking the pink things violently in his hands.

Fred shrugged. "We couldn't find any Nargles."

"And, we need you to keep them there until the end of term," George put in. Ron's mouth popped open and he was about to protest but George continued. "If I were you, I'd do it, too."

"And, why?" Ron said, flabbergasted.

"Because, if you don't, we'll tell Hermione that you've been helping us try out our products on first years," Fred threatened.

"But, I haven't!" Ron cried.

"Who do you think she'll believe?" George asked, smirking.

Ron screwed up his face in fury, shoved the Pygmy Puffs in his pocket and marched up the stairs, grunting angrily. "Thanks, little bro!" they twins called after him.


	9. Chapter 9

"You know, we swore that when we gave this to Harry, we weren't going to go looking for it again," George reminded his twin who was now rummaging through Harry's trunk. He shot a weary glance at the door, almost fearful that Harry would walk in any second.

"Oh, pipe down, Georgie. It's just this once," Fred assured him, his face buried in Harry's belongings. He didn't look at his brother, but he raised his right hand and said, "I promise this is the last time."

George rolled his eyes. "You've said that before."

Fred sighed, and pulled away from the large pile of clothes he was scattering about the floor. "Come on, haven't you been itching to get back at Filch ever since he stole our Sneakoscopes?" He raised his eyebrows. "You don't have to answer, I know you have."

"Fred – "

"What?" Fred frowned. "Please, Georgie?" He clasped his hands together, begging.

"Fine," George said, giving in. "But, this is the last time."

"Whatever you say," Fred muttered, diving back into the rubble and pulling out the desired item. "Ha! Got it!"

George snatched the piece of parchment from Fred's hand, and gave the door another tentative look. "I've missed this old thing." He smiled reminiscently.

"Would you like to do the honors, then?" Fred asked.

"If you don't mind." But, George didn't wait for permission. He laid the tip of his wand on the battered paper and said in a clear voice, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

At once, ink bloomed across the surface as if a bottle had just been spilled. Incongruent lines and moving dots suddenly filled every corner and Fred grinned. "I've missed it, too."

"Alright, well, let's go," George interrupted their reverie. "It's only a matter of time before Harry realizes it's gone."

George flipped the Marauder's Map over in his hands and folded it several times before he nearly yelled, "I found her! She's lurking around the Charms classroom."

"Let me see," Fred ordered, ripping it from his grip. His eyes quickly fell on the dot that George indicated. "Excellent."

The twins sped down the staircase and crept silently around each corridor, never tearing their eyes off the map. "Stop!" George hissed, throwing an arm out to halt Fred in his tracks. "She's coming around the bend. Don't let her see you!" he mouthed.

Fred nodded and ducked behind a statue, pulling George with him. "Look!" he whispered.

Surely enough, Mrs. Norris trotted by. Her scrutinizing gaze just barely missed the place where they were hiding. "Watch this," George whispered. He whipped out his wand again and murmured a spell Fred didn't hear.

With a faint pop and a choked meow, the spot where Mrs. Norris once stood was now inhabited by a plump and disgusting pig. It snorted loudly and ran wildly into the wall.

"Almost done," George said, his voice filled with derisive laughter. He flicked his wand carelessly and a small, blank sign appeared from thin air. He pointed his wand at it and wrote, in big red letters: MRS. NORRIS.

He hung the sign around the fat hog's neck and gave it a smart smack on the behind. It squealed in protest and jumped, then scurried off down the corridor.

"Wait until Filch finds her in this state," Fred said, practically dying of laughter. "Great work, Georgie."

"Thank you, Fred."

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><p><strong>If you enjoyed, please let me know! In fact, you can let me know even if you didn't like it... <strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story thus far! It means so much to me!  
>And, I'd like to give a special thanks to <strong>Triciaxy**, who had reviewed every single chapter I've written so far. Thank you thank you thank you! I wrote this chapter with Mrs. Weasley because you asked me to!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>"You have them, right?" Fred hissed under his breath. "You have your half?" His tone was eager and slightly nervous.<p>

"For the hundredth time, yes," George said, rolling his eyes. "Do you have yours?"

"Of course, I do," Fred said, aghast.

"Boys! Over here!" Mrs. Weasley called, waving the twins to come closer. They scurried over obediently, pushing their heavy trolleys to stand next to their mother, father and their brothers and sister. "Would you two like to go first? And, the rest of us will come in after you," she offered to the twins.

"No, thanks, mum," Fred said.

"Yeah, you guys go first," George added enthusiastically.

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at them, but after a few seconds said, "Alright, then. Ron, Ginny, come with your father and I. Charlie, Percy, you come in after us." Percy nodded, and the younger siblings clung to their mother's robes in mute fear. She pushed them through the large, solid brick barrier that would ultimately bring them to the Hogwarts Express.

Their older brothers followed suit without saying a word, leaving the twins by themselves, staring at the barrier wearily. "You first," George whispered.

"No! You go first!" Fred protested angrily.

"Fine. Together?" George suggested.

"Yeah, together," Fred agreed.

"Remember," George said, holding up his forefinger. "Do it as soon as we go through."

"Right."

They linked arms and shoved their trunks through the wall, both closing their eyes as if expecting the impact. But, it didn't come, and they floated easily onto the platform. Fred and George grinned at each other.

Farther down the way, Mr. Weasley helped Percy lift his trunk onto the train and Mrs. Weasley was busy wrestling Scabbers back into his cage. "We should probably do it now before mum can stop us," Fred said out of the corner of his mouth. The two of them shimmied through the crowd until they were right in the heart of it.

George shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out two large handfuls of magical fireworks. "Here we go!"

Fred did the same, and he took three large steps away from his brother. He spun on his heel to face George and said, "Now!"

The boys simultaneously tossed one of their fireworks into the air and they both exploded at their apex. Each caught the others, and threw another up. Several passersby were stopping to watch the spontaneous show. Fred and George grinned and continued to juggle the trick firecrackers as more and more people gathered round. It wasn't long until the fireworks created a dazzling shower of color upon them.

To add more excitement, the twins turned their backs on each other yet still flipped the ever-popping fireworks to each other. George lobbed a few over from under his legs and Fred flicked one or two over using his feet, almost like a hacky-sack.

"FRED! GEORGE! IS THAT YOU?" Mrs. Weasley was storming through the crowd, heaving everyone out of her way. "STOP THIS AT ONCE!" she shrieked, as she finally made her way to the front.

"Hold on, mum! We're almost done!" Fred called back. George sniggered.

"DO NOT TALK TO ME THAT WAY, YOUNG MAN!" their mother shouted, waving a finger at him angrily. She dove between them, trying to catch the fireworks, though it was in vain. She managed to grasp one but it singed her hand and she released it immediately. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" she said desperately.

The twins ignored her. Fred held up a hand to George and he paused. Then, Fred threw up a rather large one the exploded with a loud bang. The blue sparkles it emitted quickly formed themselves to read the word, FRED. He bowed directly underneath his name and the audience laughed.

George copied his actions, and revealed his name in big green, sparkling letters. His bow was followed by an equal amount of guffaws.

Then, the two faced each other again, and tossed their last fireworks into the air, causing them to collide at their highest point. With the loudest bang yet, the name WEASLEY formed in enormous red letters. It lingered in the air above them for a few seconds before it shifted to be the word APPLAUSE.

On cue, the crowd applauded with mixed in hoots and hollers. Fred and George bowed several more times and waved happily to them all.

Although, not everyone was pleased. Mrs. Weasley stood before them with her hands balled into fists, her hair practically crackling from rage, and her eyes popping out of her head. "What – on – Earth – do – you – think – you – are – doing?" She articulated each word carefully and clearly, most likely to try and contain her fury.

"Mum, you know we always like to make an entrance!" George said merrily.

"We have to make a first impression early," Fred continued.

"What better time than our first day to Hogwarts?"

Mrs. Weasley was seething. Her breath was ragged and she would probably leave cuts on her palms from digging in her fingernails if she wasn't careful. She opened her mouth to lecture them, but just then, the Hogwarts Express whistled to signal its departure.

"Bye, mum!" Fred said, grabbing his trunk.

"Got to go!" George shouted.

"We'll send you plenty of letters and maybe a few pairs of Percy's trousers!"

With further a due, they boarded the train and left Mrs. Weasley standing motionless amidst the waving parents.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eh, not sure how I feel about this one, so let me know what you think!**

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><p>"Oi! If you want to be a Chaser on this team, you better play like one!" Oliver Wood shouted at a scared looking Alicia Spinnet. "And, Katie, if you don't stop dropping the Quaffle, I'll have to cut you from the team!"<p>

"Aw, come off it, Wood!" George yelled at him, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, leave 'em alone!" Fred said, coming to a halt in mid-air next to Katie Bell. When she started to cry, he patted her gently on the back as if that would comfort her.

"How are we supposed to beat Hufflepuff this Saturday if we can't even string three passes together when there isn't even an opposing team?" Wood said, abandoning his place in front of the goal posts to join them.

Although he knew he did have a point, George said, "If you don't go easy on the team, they won't even show up to play on Saturday!"

"Shut it, or I'll kick you two off the team, too!" Wood threatened. Katie sobbed into her hands.

The twins looked at each other for a moment. "Fine, then," Fred said shrewdly.

"I think we've had enough practice for one day," George said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Come on, George. Let's go." Fred gave Katie a little smile, then swooped down to the ground with George close behind.

"Hey, come back! I'm serious, if you leave, I'll…" But, Wood's retort faded into the background as the Weasley twins marched off the pitch.

"What a git," Fred said, changing out of his Quidditch robes once they entered the changing rooms.

"I can't believe he made Katie cry!" George said in disbelief.

"You know, if Charlie were here, he would have shut him up in a minute," Fred said, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah." George was half way through pulling on his school robes when he froze. "Fred, you're a genius."

"Well, I know that, but why this time?" Fred asked.

"How's your Charlie impression? Mine's a little weak."

Fred smiled. "Spot on."

The broom shed that held all the school's brooms was easy enough to break into, and even easier to steal from. Quietly, the twins took a battered looking Clean Sweep from the collection, and made their way back to the stands. Wood was still hollering relentlessly at the team.

George bewitched the broom so that it flew on its own, and sent it to fly amongst the still practicing Gryffindors. Fred cleared his throat, and then pointed his wand at his neck to magnify his voice to fill the entire stadium.

"Oliver," Fred said, in an even voice that was uncannily like his older brother's, "what are you doing?"

Every head swiveled around to find the source of the voice. "Me?" Oliver said in a shaky tone.

"Yes, you. If you're going to treat my team like dirt, then you don't deserve to be Quidditch Captain."

"Ch – Charlie?" Wood stuttered. "Where – where are you?" It was then that he noticed the bewitched broomstick flying above their heads. Wood's jaw dropped.

"Right here," Fred said in the same even tone, but this time he sounded much more menacing. George made the broom fly right in front of him. Alicia and Angelina gasped.

Oliver's face went bone white. "What's going on? This isn't funny. You're not Charlie! There's no one – "

"Wood!" Fred shouted, cutting him off. "Promise that you'll never speak like that to these players ever again."

"Okay," Wood managed to choke out. "I – I promise."

"That's better. Oh, and Katie, you have the right to hit him on the head with one of Fred and George's bats if he ever makes you cry again," Fred added. George snorted with laughter by his side.

Wood let out a little yelp and his face turned almost ashen, but Katie looked up from her hands and smiled, though she seemed a little incredulous.

"To everyone else: Good luck this Saturday! And, please beat Hufflepuff for me."

The Gryffindors cheered, but Wood was still looking a little sick.

After a few minutes when he was sure that Charlie wasn't going to speak again, he ended practice, leaving everyone in much better spirits than when they started.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for all the reviews everyone! They make an author very happy!  
>Hope you enjoy this next installment...<strong>

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><p>"I suppose he is bound to do something right, now and again," Fred said, laughing.<p>

"Can't believe he did it," George said, shaking his head.

"Well," Fred began, clapping his younger brother, Ron, on the back, "I do believe this is cause for celebration. What do you think, Georgie?"

"Sounds about right," George answered. "It's not every day you have a game like that." Ron blushed, but he looked rather pleased with himself.

"Party in the common room?" Fred yelled to the Gryffindors around them at large.

Cheers of assent echoed through the grounds as the group began singing a modified version of "Weasley is Our King".

George tugged on Fred's robes to pull him aside. "A good party always has refreshments, you know," he whispered, raising his eyebrows.

"Right you are, Georgie. The question is: The Hog's Head or The Three Broomsticks?" Fred said grinning.

The twins silently made their way down to the corridor with the One-Eyed Witch statue. Like they knew so well, it had a passage that led to Honey Duke's cellar which was just down the street from the pubs in question.

"Dissendium," George said, clearly. Immediately, a small opening appeared on the hump of the ugly witch's back. Fred and George lowered themselves in, respectively, and jogged down the long tunnel, Fred shouldering his famous blue bag.

Footsteps could be heard above them, which could only mean that someone was walking about the basement of the sweet shop. Fred signaled for George to remain quiet, but the footsteps had already faded away.

"After you," George murmured.

Fred climbed in, sliding the floor tile out of the way. Thankfully, there was no one in sight. George joined him, and they snuck quietly out the back door.

Hogsmeade was surprisingly busy this evening, perhaps because of the beautiful weather, but that meant the boys had to be extra careful. They sunk back into the shadows, and made sure to duck behind a dustbin every time someone came by.

At last, they found the Three Broomsticks. Of course, it was the busiest, but the Butterbeer was the best. "Alohamora!" Fred whispered, pointing his wand at the lock on the back door. It snapped open, and revealed a dimly lit storage room full of dusty glasses, barrels of Butterbeer and bottles of numerous other alcoholic beverages.

"Alrighty then, three barrels should do it," George said, pointing to a stack of ten or so.

"It's a shame," Fred said, knitting his eyebrows together. "I do like Madam Rosmerta but, she makes it far too easy to steal from her. No alarms, no nothing."

George nodded. "Real shame."

Together, they eased three of the large barrels of Butterbeer into Fred's bag and slipped back out into the darkening night.

When they entered the common room again, they were greeted with tumultuous cheers and applause. "Let the party begin!" shouted George as he summoned one of the barrels out of the bag. Fred did the same and winked at his twin when their eyes met.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's another, hope you like. Reviews please!**

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><p>George lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. With his wand, he made a tiny paper airplane twirl above his head as he hummed tunelessly to himself. His twin lay by his side on his stomach, groaning into the carpet on the dormitory floor.<p>

"I'm so bored," Fred whined, his voice slightly muffled.

George dropped his wand hand and let the airplane fall onto his chest. He sighed. "Me, too."

"What I wouldn't give for one dungbomb. Just one," Fred cried.

George frowned. "I can't believe we used up our entire supply in less than a month."

Fred rolled over onto his back and glanced at his twin. "Please come up with something for us to do before I resort to doing my homework," he pleaded. "I don't think I could live with myself if I did."

"We could lock Mrs. Norris in that empty classroom again," George suggested halfheartedly.

Fred glared at him. "Don't be stupid. We did that last week."

"Then, you come up with something! I don't see you thinking – "

Fred sat bolt upright, and his eyes widened. He froze for a moment, thinking, then smacked his hand to his forehead. "Of course!" he nearly yelled.

"What? What is it?" George asked, sitting up, too.

Fred was laughing now. He hopped up and went for his trunk. Still chuckling to himself, he rummaged through it and pulled out his blue bag. Quickly, he pointed his wand at it and summoned out some strange things that looked crudely like shoes with wheels on the bottom. "These," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

George squinted, as though that would make the situation make more sense. "What are they?"

"I think they're called 'Roller Skates'," Fred informed him. "I stole them from Dad over the summer. Pretty sure they're some sort of Muggle contraption. I saw him trying to put them on his feet one day and thought I'd take them."

"Why should I be interested in some stupid muggle shoes?" his brother asked, crossing his arms.

"Because," he said, "Dad tweaked them to do all kinds of stuff. I saw him playing around with them." The boys knew only too well that their father had a knack for turning innocent and boring Muggle artifacts into magical anomalies. George smiled.

"Let's see what they can do," he challenged.

It was about the normal lunch hour when they cruised down to the Entrance Hall, so plenty of witnesses were lingering about – including Filch. Neither twin knew what would happen when they put on the roller skates, but they knew it would at least wreak havoc.

"Ready?" George asked, and Fred nodded. He slipped on the roller skates, and crouched down to let George climb on his shoulders. When he was stable standing on top of him, he used a charm to glue his feet to his shoulders so that he wouldn't fall off.

Then, before he could stop them, the shoes sped forward, zooming them into the Great Hall. Everyone looked around to see them sliding across the floor, swerving in and out of the tables, and knocking people over as they went.

Filch jumped out of his seat and ran after them. The twins and the caretaker were running directly at each other, but just as they were in reach, the roller skates skidded to a halt and reversed. They were sent backwards as Filch followed them recklessly around the room.

"Catch us if you can!" George shouted, laughing.

"Stop! You stupid kids, stop!" he yelled.

They were about to hit their backs to the wall when they noticed themselves turned 90 degrees and facing the floor. The skates had taken them backwards up the wall. "Ha! Can't get us now, can you Filch?" Fred hollered.

Now they were hanging upside down on the ceiling, the skates never once stopping. A helpless Filch was running just underneath them shaking his fists. Out of nowhere, the tops of the shoes, where Fred's toes would be, opened up and dropped a large blob of some glue-like paste. Somehow, it managed to land on Filch, and he gasped. Almost immediately, a load of what looked like chicken feathers fell from them and landed again on top of Filch's sticky body. He growled angrily.

"Take that, Filchy!" George cackled.

The roller skates had turned them to face forward again and were now taking back down to the ground. Thankfully, all of the teachers were too busy converging on Filch to stop the Weasley twins'.

The entire Hall was filled with laughter. And, just as they were about to leave, the skates stopped and sprouted wings. As suddenly as they had stopped, they were thrown up into the air and very gently, they soared out of the large doors.

"Thank you, everyone!" Fred called back to the adoring crowd.

"We're here all year!"

"Try the veal!"

"You know," Fred said, just to his twin, "I used to think we weren't related to Dad, but now I see he definitely has some of our genes in him."

"Definitely," George agreed, smiling.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry it's been a little bit since my last update, but here it is! Chapter 14!  
>Oh, and, this is me begging for reviews: Please, please, PLEASE review!<br>Thanks!**

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><p>"You know, Georgie, I'm not sure how we managed this."<p>

George laughed and shrugged. In his arms, he was holding a large pile of green and silver fabric – Slytherin socks. "It helps to know someone on the inside, I guess."

Fred grinned, nearly dropping his large pile of socks. "Or, it helps to be a friend of someone who knows someone on the inside," Fred corrected.

"Who'd have known all you had to do was tell Dobby the House Elf that you were doing something to help Harry Potter and he'd do anything you want!" George said.

It was a rather lucky streak of brilliance that the house elf had granted them access to all of the Slytherin's clothes that evening. The twins had seen him talking to Harry in the common room, and after hearing him say, "I'll do anything you want, Harry Potter, sir!" they cornered him. Of course, it was rather easy to convince him they were friends of Harry's because their resemblance to Ronald was obvious, but it was even simpler to get him to help them with their hi-jinks.

Dobby, along with several other house elves, had already collected the Slytherin's clothes to be washed that evening, so when they had asked for the socks, he had them readily summoned to them. To placate the elf, they showered him with promises on bringing them back as soon as possible.

"Merlin, these socks smell like Goblin piss," George said, making a disgusted face. "Where is it we're going anyway?"

"Just up to the Charms corridor," Fred whispered. "And, keep your voice down, alright? We don't need Filch catching us."

"Sorry," George mouthed.

They rounded another bend and stopped. Fred glanced at his brother, and they simultaneously dropped their stinking piles onto the floor. "Do you remember the charm we discussed?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aw, come off it! Of course, I remember," George whispered, frowning. "After me, then?"

"No need for the tude," Fred said, smiling maliciously.

Together, they pointed their wands at the socks and instantaneously, the socks started buzzing and sparking, as if they suddenly held their own electric current. Some of the socks flew apart, ad some clung together, indicating that each was statically charged. In unison, Fred and George levitated every single sock so that they stuck to the ceiling of the corridor.

They snorted with laughter, unable to control it. "Come on," Fred said, nudging his twin in the side, "let's get going before we get caught."

The following morning held a rather strange set of events. For one thing, every Slytherin was somehow sock-less. For another, the lot of them were consequently whining about blisters that were already forming on the backs of their heels. But, perhaps the strangest of all, the Charms corridor seemed to be raining sweaty socks. Just as the twins had hoped, the static was beginning to wear off and the socks were now falling onto students that had the misfortune of having Charms that day.

Fred and George, who had of course predicted the odd storm, strolled casually into the hallway, each holding a red and gold umbrella.

"Wonderful weather we're having today, isn't it, Freddie?"

"Superb, George. Really superb."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hope ya like; review if ya do. Thanks!**

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><p>George scowled at the bottle of Veritaserum as he placed it roughly on a shelf. Fred did the same with another bottle filled with Bat Spleen on a shelf on the other side of Snape's Potions supply closet.<p>

"I can't believe he's making us sort these by hand," George hissed.

"And, in alphabetical order," Fred added, his voice thick with anger.

"This is a new low, even for him."

"Enough chatter, boys," came Snape's patronizing tone from behind the door. "We wouldn't want to start all over again, would we?"

They glared at the backside of the door, turning red with rage. Neither answered. Both continued to slam each bottled ingredient hard into their proper places on the shelves. Perhaps on purpose, Fred had shattered a tiny bottle of Boomslang Skin.

"Darn," he said, loudly, and to no one in particular. He swung the door open, and addressed Snape. "Professor! One of the bottles broke! I'm going to need my wand back to fix it!"

Snape looked up slowly from the papers on his desk and stared at him. George sniggered, concealed by the closet door. Snape hesitated, grinding his teeth together. "No, I don't think so," he said with forced calm. "I'll do it. Out of my way."

He glided into the closet, pushing past Fred, and clutching his wand in frustration. When Snape's back was turned, Fred peered around him and mouthed, "Go ahead," to his twin.

George nodded. Silently, as Snape said, "Reparo," he slipped out a large bottle from the inside pocket of his robes and slipped it in between Scurvy Grass and Shrivelfig on a shelf. He gave his twin a thumbs up just as Snape turned around and faced them.

"That's enough for today," he snarled at them, his voice laced with disgust. "You can resume tomorrow – same time." With the swish of his robes, he disappeared from the closet, and into his office.

They made faces at the place that Snape had just vacated, then glanced at each other. "Come on," George grumbled. "Let's get out of here."

He said it just loud enough for their Potions teacher to hear, but Fred shook his head. Fred pulled him down behind a large cabinet of cauldrons, and they waited.

It took a few minutes, but Snape finally emerged from his office and strolled into his closet to inspect their progress. George smiled, and said, "Wait for it, wait for it…"

"Ouch!" Snape bellowed. "What on Earth? Ow!"

Fred covered his mouth with his hand in a vain attempt to stop the rush of laughter, and George hardly even tried to prevent his guffaws.

Snape came hurrying out into the room, his hands covering his greasy head, as he continued to cry in pain. "Ouch! OUCH!"

A shampoo bottle was floating behind him, and it seemed, was smacking him sharply on the head. Any part of his skull that was not being covered by Snape's long, bony fingers was hit with rather impressive force. Just then, the bottle squeaked, "Take a shower, you slimy, mangy git!" and several fat, soapy bubbles were squeezed from the top.

Fred and George sprinted out of the room when Snape was turned away, and the last thing they remember, he was wrestling it onto the desk, still yelling in pain.


	16. Chapter 16

**Oops! Two potions related chapters in a row, oh well. Hope that doesn't stop you all from reviewing!  
>And, by the way, while your reading this story, and you think of some pranksstunts/rule-breaking actions that the twins would be capable of doing, please let me know in the form of a review! I'd be happy to incorporate your ideas.**

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><p>"Hey, Ron!" Fred called down the table to his younger brother. "Do you think you could stop bragging for one second and let me borrow your quill?"<p>

Ron was too busy replaying his family's recent trip to Egypt to his best friends – and, whoever around would listen – to even look up and acknowledge him. He only paused long enough to toss his bag over to the twins across the table. Fred stared at him indignantly at first, but then smiled mischievously.

"Pompous, little prick," George growled.

Fred grasped the bag that Ron had thrown into his pile of eggs. "If he wants to act like a conceited troll if front of everyone, that's his choice."

Fred rummaged through it, though he wasn't looking for his brother's quill. Instead, he began picking out the various different Potions ingredients from it. When he pulled out the one he had been searching for, he exclaimed, "Aha!"

He had snatched a vial of Scarab Beetles from Ron's collection and held it up to his face. "Here," George said, handing Fred another vial from his own school bag.

Fred took it and held it in his other hand. George's bottle almost exactly mirrored Ron's apart from one thing – the contents seemed to be moving. And, indeed, they were. The second vial was full to the brim of actual, live Scarab Beetles opposed to the dead ones normally used in Potions class. It had taken the twins a very long time to collect such a large amount of beetles during their stay in Egypt, but when the effort allowed them to perform a prank to this magnitude, none of that seemed to matter.

"Excellent." Fred replaced all the ingredients he had removed, glancing quickly at Ron to ensure he had not seen anything suspicious.

" – and then, I climbed all the way to the top of the largest pyramid in the world – " Ron was heard saying, indicating the shape of a pyramid stupidly with his arms. Clearly, he was too engulfed in his story to notice.

"This will shut him up," George said, taking the bottle of dead beetles Fred had switched out and putting it away.

Fred zipped up Ron's bag and chucked it forcefully at his head. "OUCH!" he yelled, momentarily forced to stop his constant flow of bragging.

"Oops, sorry, little bro," Fred said, smiling cheekily.

Ron frowned, but departed without another word with the rest in his year for Potions when the bell rang.

Unfortunately, Fred and George did not have the luck to sneak out of Transfiguration class to see Ron's reaction, but they had gotten a very descriptive replay from Seamus Finnigan.

" – Snape had just told us all to take out our ingredients and Ron pulled out his beetles – " his narrative was punctuated frequently by laughter " – and when he uncorked the bottle they started climbing up his arm! He screamed like a banshee, and ran around the room trying to fling them off! It took him ten minutes. Must have picked those things up in Egypt!" He laughed again, holding his side. "Snape had to help him get them off, and he even got some of them on him. Of course," Seamus' voice became slightly less amused, "Snape did take 20 points from Gryffindor, but it was worth it!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks for all the feedback from everyone! All of the reviews have been so nice to read!  
>And, I did get a few suggestions for this chapter so I decided to choose one of them. This idea came from <strong>feyfollower**, so I hope you enjoy what I did with it! Read and tell me what you think.**

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><p>Everywhere he went, Harry was followed by whispers and glares and petrified looks. If Fred and George didn't know better, they would have thought the twelve-year-old had sprouted ugly boils all over his body.<p>

But, the twins knew very well why everyone was talking constantly about Harry these days; they, of course, suspected him to be the Heir of Slytherin. At the very idea of something like this being true, they laughed. There was no possible way Harry Potter would be attacking Muggle-borns just for the fun of it…

And, it wasn't until they discovered that Harry actually was a Parselmouth that they realized he really did need saving. Such evidence was almost irrefutable. But, leave it to the Weasley twins to not only ease the tension but also take some of the burden off of their younger brother's best friend.

"I've definitely seen some around here before."

Fred and George had been searching through a bunch of tall reeds down near the Black Lake all afternoon.

"They always slither around here," George said, ducking underneath an over-hanging tree branch.

"Ow!" Fred yelped. "Well," he said sucking on his finger, "I found one."

A small water snake that had just bitten him was quickly scurrying away from him, trying to hide in the water, but Fred pulled out his wand and stunned it.

"Nice one, Freddie," George said. "Ouch!" Another one had nipped his ankle from behind. "Got one." He stunned his as well.

"Here ya go," Fred said, handing him what looked like a dog leash. "I stole these from Dad's collection, too. He says they're supposed to be used to contain pets." He shrugged.

The twins picked up their stunned snakes and slung the leashes around them, securing them just under their slimy heads.

"Let's go."

Once back inside the castle, the boys placed their snakes on the floor and brought them back to life.

The snakes blinked several times, struggling to get their bearings, but it was only a matter of seconds before they began slithering madly and straining against their leashes. Nearby, Parvati Patil shrieked in surprise. It wasn't long before the entire Hall was screaming and backing up against the walls to give the snakes a wide berth. The slippery creatures hissed and thrashed violently.

"What are you playing at?" yelled Zacharias Smith.

Fred, who had been waiting for someone to be brave enough to address them, spun his head around and said, "This is my pet snake, Reggie!"

"Don't tell me you don't have one…" George said, giving him a perplexed look.

"I – what?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

But, instead of answering him, Fred turned and faced his snake which was still writhing on the floor. He began hissing and spitting in a way that suggested he was trying to copy the few phrases of Parseltongue they heard Harry saying. The snake met his gaze, but of course, didn't recognize any of the sounds he made. Every single person in the Hall froze, staring at him and letting their mouths hang open.

"You – you can s-speak Parsel – oh, my goodness!" Lavender Brown cried, clasping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were open very wide.

George screwed up his face in mock confusion. "You mean you can't?" He gazed around at the curious faces looking at them. Several students shook their heads.

Fred shrugged, hissed again at his "pet snake" and said, "Well, we were just off to a party with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets…but, I think you have to speak Parseltongue to come…"

Just then, they spotted Harry in the crowd, practically beaming at them. "Thanks," he mouthed. George winked at him and both flashed him a toothy smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**I think this chapter is one of my personal favorites... tell me what you think.**

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><p>It was Christmas time – Fred and George's favorite time of year. The only holiday that beat it, in their opinion, was April Fools' Day, but that went without saying. Who didn't like their birthday?<p>

To add to the mood and festivities, the Hogwarts teachers had bewitched the many suits of armor around the castle to sing Christmas carols. The majority of the students, including the ones from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, appreciated it but, the Weasley twins weren't too thrilled. If they were going to stay in the castle during their Holiday Season, it should at least be more like home.

George shook his head. "I think I might actually miss her this Christmas," he said, glancing at a loud suit of armor singing 'O Holy Night' and then back at Fred.

"Mum? Yeah, me too," Fred replied.

"I'll go through withdraw if I don't get some of her Christmas cooking."

"And, Charlie was supposed to be coming home this year." Fred frowned.

"Yeah. And, remember that time when we put a gnome on the top of the tree?" George's face split into a wide grin.

"Remember that time we tried to convince Mum that Celestina Warbeck got run over by a Hippogriff?" Fred asked, smiling.

George laughed. "Yeah, and both of us were so mad when she still found her singing on the wireless."

There was a pause. "Well there was that one song; which one was it?" Fred's voice was slightly more serious. "You know, the one with the catchy tune?"

"'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me'," George said simply in a very small voice.

"Right…" Fred trailed off.

"I'm gonna miss that."

"Well, we can change that. Are we wizards or not?"

"What are you talking about?" George said, rolling his eyes.

"Walk with me," Fred said, gesturing down the hall.

Dinner came just like any other day, but the topic that seemed to have everyone talking was those strange singing suits of armor.

" – did you hear it?" Fred and George heard one Hufflepuff saying.

" – my mother loves her and her music – "

" – I love that song!" said another student.

" – didn't know the teachers listened to her station – "

Ginny cleared her throat when she sat down next to the two of them. She had a nasty grin on her face. "So," she said, "Celestina Warbeck?"

George cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"You heard me," Ginny said, turning to face a large plate of sausages.

"I have no idea what she's talking about, Georgie," Fred said, though Ginny saw that the corner of his mouth twitched upward in smile.

"Sure, you don't," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder and helping herself to some pumpkin juice. "I guess the suits of armor in the corridors just decided to sing 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' on their own?"

She smiled, knowingly. George almost blushed.

"Didn't know you two were such softies for The Singing Sorceress." She laughed out loud. "Maybe I'll send a letter to Mum…"

"Aw, shut up," they said together.


	19. Chapter 19

**Please excuse the large gap between updates - I know it's been two months. But, I have three days off this week so I might be able to crank out another chapter. If you're still with me and this story, please leave a review to let me know you want me to continue! I don't want to waste my time if no one is reading it. (: Enjoy!**

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><p>"I don't know, Fred," George said, frowning a little. "Do you think he'll buy it?"<p>

"Oh, sure," he said, waving his hand indifferently. "Why wouldn't he?"

George shook his head, but there was a smirk plastered on his face. "Give it here."

He extended his hand, and Fred slipped a piece of paper into it stealthily. George unfolded it, scanned it quickly and folded it back up. He handed it back to his twin and winked.

"Perfect."

Valentine's Day was always either a hit or miss for the twins. They either had an amazing time laughing at a brilliantly executed prank, or spent the day sulking around because they hated all the lovey-dovey crap that seemed to bewitch everyone. Thankfully, this year wasn't going to end up like the latter.

When the two entered the Great Hall, Fred looked up, nudged George in the ribs, and jabbed his thumb in the direction of a fat and ugly dwarf dressed as Cupid. George grinned.

"Pst! Pssst!" Fred hissed until the dwarf turned around. "Oy! Come over here!"

The dwarf didn't seem like he was very pleased to be ordered around, but nevertheless, he waddled over. "What do you want?" he grunted angrily.

"Well, Happy Valentine's Day to you, too," George said, affronted.

He rolled his eyes. "Listen, we need you to give this to someone," Fred whispered, pulling out the piece of paper and shoving it in the dwarf's stubby hand. "Give it to Mr. Filch, okay? Can you do that?"

"And sing the song that's written there," George ordered, indicating the short verse scribbled across it. "Make sure you say who it's really from, too. She was too shy to give it herself so she just wrote her name at the bottom."

The grumpy, little dwarf scowled then turned away and searched the large room for the caretaker despite himself. The twins quickly found there place at the Gryffindor table before either of them could be accused of anything suspicious.

Fred tugged on George's sleeve, chuckling, and pointed to the High Table. "Look, there he goes."

The ugly Cupid was kicking Filch in the shins to get his attention. "Oy! Down here! I've got somethin' for ya."

"What? What do you want?" he asked, rubbing his shins.

The dwarf cleared his throat and began to sing, "Oh, my dearest, oh, my love; you must have come from up above. Your greasy locks blow in the wind and your yellow teeth shine; oh, I must say, you remind me of well-bread swine. And, when I look into those beady eyes, baby, a part of me dies. It's tough to handle your breath-taking beauty, even though it is a bit fruity. Now, hear my song and listen good; let it not be misunderstood. There is no one I would rather have as my Prince, so respond in time and address it to Madam Pince."

The entire Hall was silent apart from Fred and George snorting into their home fries. Filch's jaw dropped, and it even looked like there were tears forming in his eyes. His expression quickly shifted from bone white to a flushed red color. It was clear he had forgotten about the room around him, because he began to whoop and cheer with delight. In fact, he was so happy that he giggled like a little school girl. On the other hand, Madam Pince's face remained motionless and expressionless as she stared at her plate. Aware of every pair of eyes on her, she quietly removed herself from the premises without even a word to poor Filch.

"Aw, come on," Fred said, laughing, "you know she was thinking the exact same thing, anyway."


	20. Chapter 20

**Here's another! Sorry it's late!  
>So, here's the thing: I've never gotten into triple digits for my review counts and I was hoping all of you could do me a favor and fix that? It would make me an extremely happy person.<br>Enjoy!**

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><p>"Georgie, you can't be serious," Fred said staring at him intently.<p>

"It was just a thought," George responded, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I mean, honestly, just look at her." He gestured toward the beautiful, blonde girl who was standing in the courtyard talking to Roger Davies. "Harry told me she's part Veela, too. Oh, and don't try to deny that you drooled over her when you first saw her."

"Yeah, but she's 'Fleur'." He said her name with the same annoying, French twang.

"And? Besides, it's not like I'm going to marry her or anything," George said.

Fred considered this for a moment, and then sighed and shook his head. "You're going to regret this."

"Well, I'm going for it," George said defiantly while smoothing his collar and attempting to flatten his hair.

Fred rolled his eyes and put his hands up in surrender. "If you insist. It's your funeral."

His brother ignored him. He pulled a brown paper bag out from his school bag. He expertly summoned a silver plate out of thin air and withdrew the contents of the bag. George neatly placed what looked like chocolate éclairs in a cute little design along the edge of the plate and cleared his throat.

"George," Fred said tentatively, eyeing the éclairs. "Are those what I think they are?"

"Most likely," George chuckled, smiling mischievously. "But, the answer to that question depends entirely on what exactly it is you're thinking."

Fred grinned. Gracefully, George strolled across the courtyard holding his one hand behind his back and balancing the tray nimbly on his other. Fred noticed that he made it a point to walk dangerously close to Roger and Fleur, and he didn't think that bumping into Roger's back was an accident.

"Oh, excuse me," George apologized, smiling politely at the two of them.

"Watch where you ar' going nex' time," Fleur said curtly, but George saw her eyes rest on the plate of cakes.

"So sorry," George said kindly, turning away. "I'll just be on my way, then."

"Wait!" she said. "Ar' t'ose éclairs?"

George nodded, looking innocent. "Chocolate."

"We 'ave t'em at 'ome, but I 'ave not been able to find t'em here. May I 'ave one, pleaz?"

"Of course! And you, Roger? Would you like one, too?" George offered the plate up to both of them.

"Oh, no, it's quite alright. I – "

"Roger, I 'ould like you to try one," Fleur said, eagerly grabbing a plump pastry.

"Oh, please don't eat that one," George said, snatching it from her. "I'm afraid that one lacks the proper amount of cream filling. This one, on the other hand, is perfect." He handed her a different one from the other side of the tray. She gladly obliged and indulged.

Roger Davies took one reluctantly, knowing the twins' track record but also wanting to please Fleur. It was a shame that he wasn't paying attention to his choice of éclair because he just happened to pick up the same one that Fleur had put down.

The effect was instantaneous. From the moment Davies swallowed the bewitched éclair, long and disgusting, red tentacles began growing from his ears, nostrils, and what appeared to be his belly button. Passersby gasped, but George acted as though nothing strange had occurred. Roger desperately tried to cover them up but they continued to grow longer. He had no choice but to run to the Hospital Wing.

Fleur gaped after him, and then glanced down at the unfinished éclair in her hand. "Oh, how rude of me; I never did properly introduce myself. I'm George Weasley. Would you like to go to the Ball with me?"

She stared at him as though he were the one that had just grown tentacles. Instead of answering, she threw the half-pastry on the ground and sped down the hall after Davies.

"Well, I do have to admit: it was very well executed," Fred said, appearing at his side. "Style points for that."


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story! It means everything to me. And it surprises me that new people are still alerting and favoriting it with each update. Your support is what inspires me to continue, so please do keep it up. (:**

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><p>"I hate this," Ron grumbled into his plate of bacon.<p>

"Bacon? I don't think I've ever seen you turn down food, Ronniekins," Fred said, smirking.

"No, not bacon," Ron retorted, "Umbridge's stupid 'Inquisitorial Squad'. They think they own the place." Harry nodded in agreement.

"You just have to ignore them, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "If you fight back, it's only going to make it worse."

"You know, Hermione, I don't think you're right," George said, dropping his fork. "Malfoy gave us a 'spontaneous frisking' today and confiscated our Extendable Ears and what remained of our Skiving Snackboxes." He frowned. "I, for one, am sick of it."

"No, Hermione, I think it's time we do something about this," Fred added.

"Don't," she warned, glaring up at them.

"What are you going to do? Give us detention?" George taunted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and her mouth tightened. "If I have to, yes." They couldn't be sure, but it seemed like it pained her to say it.

Fred sighed. "What if we get them really good? Will you let us slide?" He clasped his hands together and pouted.

The corners of Hermione's lips tilted upward, but she tried very hard not to smile. "Do you have something in mind?" Ron asked, looking thrilled.

George glanced over his shoulder at the Slytherin table. He looked just in time to see Crabbe actually setting fire to the stolen Extendable Ears – sending his pants ablaze as well. Fred grinned. "We may not have to do anything if Crabbe continues to be as stupid as he is."

"It's none of your business, Ronald," George snapped. "But, believe me, you'll know if we decide on anything."

"Come on, George," Fred said, grabbing his bag. "Potions." They waved and left the Great Hall swiftly.

The time between breakfast and dinner passed quickly and without any unusual events. Naturally, Umbridge had given the twins two detentions each, but the process was so mundane and routine, it hardly bothered either of them anymore.

"Evening, boys," Fred said, seating himself in front of his golden plate.

"And girl," George added, feigning politeness.

"Malfoy give you any trouble today?" Fred asked the trio indifferently.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? Just making conversation," George said, stabbing a piece of ham and placing it on his plate.

"Did you do any – " Hermione started, but she was interrupted. Draco Malfoy had just walked up to the Gryffindor table, flanked by his loyal livestock, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Who do you think you are?" he barked angrily at Harry. For some reason, he was intentionally concealing his teeth with his lips while he spoke. He oddly reminded of them of an old man without any teeth.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Harry retorted, spinning around in his seat.

"What do you think you're playing at? Do you know who you're dealing with, Potter?" Malfoy raged as Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. But, in his growing anger, he accidentally revealed his teeth. Aware of this, he automatically covered his mouth with his hand, but not before the lot of them saw what he so desperately tried to hide. From what they could tell, his teeth had been turned completely black.

"Malfoy, what's that on your teeth?" Hermione asked, giggling.

"None of your business, mudblood," he growled from behind his hand.

"Well, Draco, I may be muggle-born, but at least I don't eat troll dung for dinner." She smirked, and all five of the Gryffindors roared with laughter.

Malfoy dropped his hand to fight back, but Professor McGonagall had glided over to intervene. "Is there a problem, Draco?" she asked, coldly.

"Yes, Professor," he said rudely, not even bothering to hide his blackened teeth. "Do you think my teeth are naturally this color?"

McGonagall glanced down at the still chuckling Gryffindors. "Mr. Malfoy, it's none of my business what you eat for dinner. If you choose to indulge in troll dung, that's one hundred percent your choice." She smiled politely and everyone who had stopped to listen laughed.

Malfoy scowled, then turned and exited the Great Hall, pulling Crabbe and Goyle along with him. "What DID you do to him?" McGonogall asked out of the corner of her mouth.

"We put permanent ink in their tea," Fred said, grinning toothily.

"Hmm, this is detention-worthy behavior, you know," she said thoughtfully.

"But," the twins said together.

"But, it was a good one, wasn't it?" Hermione said sheepishly.

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><p><strong>For anyone who noticed, the inky-teeth bit is not my original idea. I got it from the movie <span>The Patriot<span>****, and I personally thought it was funny. So, no, I do not own this particular prank, but I hope you all enjoyed it, nonetheless.**


	22. Chapter 22

**My, my. It's been quite a while since I've updated this, hasn't it? Well, I guess I'm back for a little. Hope you like the newest addition to the twins' madness! Reviews are welcome as always!**

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><p>"Who are you waiting for?" Ron asked the twins as he sat down next to them in cozy common room.<p>

"The Creevey boy," George said, craning his neck to get a look at the staircase to the boy's dormitory.

"Yeah, he should be down soon, right George?" Fred asked.

"Should be."

"Why? What happened?" Ron looked puzzled.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Well, we saw him snooping in Harry's trunk earlier. I think he was trying to nick a souvenir from the precious 'Boy Who Lived'."

"We just want to catch him in the act, right, Fred?"

"Yup, and we have the perfect way to do it." A nasty grin spread across Fred's face.

"What did you do?" Ron asked apprehensively.

"You'll see," George said, sticking his nose in the air.

"Hi, Ron!" said a squeaky voice from behind the armchairs. Their heads snapped up. It was Colin Creevey. "Have you seen Harry? I've been looking for him all afternoon. I wanted to see if maybe he – "

"Harry's not here right now," George said, jumping to his feet and closing in on Colin. "But, he did leave us with an important message."

"Mhm," Fred chimed in, also getting to his feet and cornering the tiny boy. "He asked us to ask you if you've seen his Sneakoscope."

"You wouldn't have happened to see it lying around anywhere?" George said, suppressing a smile.

His eyes darted between the twins nervously. "Uh – um, no, no I haven't," Colin stuttered.

Fred and George clearly weren't convinced. Then, Colin let out a little squeal and jumped up in the air, grabbing his behind. Ron snorted with laughter.

"What – what – d – did you d – do?" he stuttered.

"Us?" the twins said together. "We didn't do anything!"

Colin peered over his shoulder and saw that his underpants had been hiked up above his trousers, involuntarily, giving him a severe wedgie.

"Colin, did you go into Harry's dormitory at all today?" Fred asked, nonchalantly.

"No – no, I didn't!" he mumbled.

Again, his underwear yanked themselves higher up, making him shriek once more. "Ah, are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, yes! I'm sure!" He leapt into the air again, howling with pain. Ron continued to laugh uncontrollably in the background.

"Hmm, it doesn't seem like it," George said, clucking his tongue and shaking his head.

"What did you do to my drawers?" Colin cried, absentmindedly massaging his buttocks.

"We'll ask the questions here, won't we, George?" Fred said, holding a hand up to silence Colin.

"Yes. What's in your pocket, Creevey?" George asked, calmly, cocking an eyebrow.

Colin didn't answer for a minute. He hung his head slightly and stared at his shoes.

"Come on, Colin, we're not going to hurt you," Fred said, lightheartedly. "Just tell us the truth."

He didn't say anything, but he reached into his pants pocket with a shaky hand and withdrew Harry's Sneakoscope. Fred held out his hand to take it and smiled warmly at the boy.

"We promise not to say anything to Harry if you promise to never go rummaging through his things again. Deal?"

Colin beamed. "Deal! I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, kid," George said. Creevey ran from the common room as fast as he could with his underwear still peeking out from above the waist band of his pants.

"So," Ron said. "What did you do to him?"

"Truth Telling Spell on his undies," George sighed, laughing. "I've always wanted to have a little fun with that one."


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione rubbed her bleary eyes as she hurried down the hall, the tiny Time-Turner swinging gently as she ran. She checked her watch; it was well past curfew. How could she have fallen asleep in the library again? This was the third time this week.

She skidded to a stop as she saw Fred and George crouched low beside a statue of Boris the Bewildered. Both boys seemed to be listening very intently to something going on behind a large door.

"What are you two doing up this late?" Hermione hissed, glancing nervously up the corridor. The twins looked up, grins etched plainly on their identical faces.

"We could ask you the same question," George whispered back. Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but closed it quickly, blushing.

"Don't worry, we already checked for Mrs. Norris," Fred said. "And Filch is busy attending to a dungbomb we set off on the third floor." He sniggered.

Hermione took one last look over her shoulder, just for good measure, and then murmured, "What are you up to?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Up to no good, as always!" Fred sang, smiling sweetly at her. "Any minute now, George." George pressed his ear closer to the handsome door.

"Any minute now, what?" Hermione demanded, momentarily forgetting to keep her voice down. Fred looked up, his eyebrows raised.

George sighed. "You know, you're nearly as annoying as our dear brother Ron. If you MUST know, we're just having a bit of fun with England's youngest Minister of Magic In-Training."

"We slipped some hair-dying potion into his shampoo," Fred added. He couldn't seem to help the grin playing on his lips.

"Percy? Hang on, where are we?"

"The prefect's bathroom! Come on, Hermione, I thought you would have had this place memorized by now," George scoffed. "Tell me, do you think Percy will look good with pink hair? We couldn't decide between that and periwinkle."

"We definitely made that right call, George. The pink tinge will bring out the rosiness of his cheeks."

Hermione looked outraged. George rolled his eyes. "Relax, we only put a few drops in. It'll be back to normal before lunch tomorrow. We just wanted to see the look on his face when – "

But, he was interrupted by Percy's agonized wail that echoed throughout the cavernous bathroom and the mostly deserted passage. All three of them jumped, and Fred and George rolled over in silent fits of laughter.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Percy howled, "I'll kill them for this!"

The twins scrambled to their feet and took off at a run, leaving Hermione to deal with a very angry Percy.


	24. Chapter 24

**Reviews are appreciated (:**

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><p>To the twins, the first day of term was always an excellent time for hijinks. More importantly, it was an excellent time for them to have some fun with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. They had no idea what kind of person Professor Lupin was, but Fred and George weren't going to miss an opportunity to make a "good" first impression.<p>

Fred looked down at his course schedule again. Defense Against the Darts Arts: 1 o'clock. He smiled, and sat down with George across from Oliver Wood at the Gryffindor table.

"So, Oliver, on a scale from one to Lockhart, how much of a pompous git is Professor Lupin?" George asked over lunch.

Wood was carefully ladling stew onto his plate. "Oh no, he's amazing!" he cried. "He really seems to know what he's doing, this one; stellar class."

Fred blanched and exchanged a worried look with George. "You – you mean you… like him?" he asked weakly. George bit his lip.

Wood looked up, hearing the tone of surprise in his voice. "Of course, I did. Why?" He looked at the pair of them. "You don't like him?"

"We have him this afternoon, but…" he trailed off and looked again at his brother.

"But, what?" He looked suspicious.

George gave Fred a meaningful look. "I think I left my textbook in the Common Room, Fred. Fancy coming with me to fetch it?" he said, hoping Fred understood.

Fred nodded fervently. "Right, yeah. We should probably get going, Wood. Bye!" He snatched his bag off the bench and raced out of the Great Hall behind George.

"Hurry! What if he gets there before us?" George asked through gasps as they pelted done the corridor toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Fred just shook his head.

They skidded to a halt when they reached the door, trying to catch their breath. Fred pressed his ear to it, listening for footsteps. "Coast is clear," he said, and they both slid inside, looking over their shoulders to be sure no one was watching.

At least 50 slimy toads were hopping merrily around the large room. They croaked loudly as they climbed all over Lupin's desk and scampered under chairs. It was utter chaos.

Fred checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes until class is supposed to start."

George nodded, but he looked worried. "Grab that bucket over there; let's try to get as many as we can before he comes back."

The boys darted around the classroom, trying to catch the rogue toads. When a particularly stubborn one dove underneath a desk, Fred tried summoning it. "Accio toad!" he shouted. To his surprise, the toad flew toward him, its eyes bulging, and he caught it with ease. "Try that, Georgie! It worked!"

"Accio toad! Accio toad!" George bellowed. "Accio – "

But, before they could collect all of them, Professor Lupin entered the room. He started slightly at the sight of them, but recovered himself quickly, surveying the situation. He looked the longest at the fat, squelchy toad clenched in George's fist.

Lupin cleared his throat. "You must be Fred and George." To their surprise, he smiled.

"Uh, Professor," Fred said awkwardly. "We were – "

Lupin held up a hand to silence him. "It's quite alright, Mr. Weasley. I know far too well how tempting it can be to want to tease a new teacher. And it seems you thought better of it, anyway." He indicated the squirming bucket in Fred's left hand.

George smiled tentatively.

"So, tell me," he chortled, "how on Earth did you find this many toads?"

"Actually, it's only one," Fred answered, laughing, too. "We used the Doubling Charm on Neville Longbottom's toad, Trevor. He loses him all the time; he won't even know he's gone."

Lupin grabbed the only toad in the room with a large, red dot on its back. "I'm assuming this is the original Trevor?" The boys nodded. "Very well. I'll give Neville his pet back this afternoon, but as for you two…"

George gulped. "Please, professor, we're really – "

"I need you to take the rest of them," he pointed at the bucket, "down to the lake before my class gets here. Better hurry; class starts in five minutes and I wouldn't want to give you detention for being late…" But, somehow they were both sure that he had absolutely no intention of doing so.


End file.
